I started this post June 27, 2013.

I had an amazing two hours at Costco today. I bought eggs and salsa. Sometimes I just want to sing the theme song from “Cheers” when I go there. “Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name. And they’re always glad you came…”I saw many friends there but the one that made my trip so amazing was a friend from high school.

I happened to look nice today because I hadn’t finished my wash yet. It’s piled high in my bedroom ready and waiting for me to fold while I watch a show. I put on a maxi skirt this morning to keep me cool in the hot weather and it’s really comfortable. That was my criteria for the day. Not on what I looked like. My friend, Karin, complimented me on how nice I looked and she commented on how she just kinda threw something on today and wasn’t looking her best. But all I could do was look at this woman and marvel on how beautiful she was.

Karin lost her 15-year-old daughter and had a baby last year. She was sharing her feelings with me. I kept thinking that maybe she would not want to talk to me so long but I loved every minute of it. I got teary eyed several times. I felt the Spirit a few times. I ignored the several phone calls I got because I just wanted to listen to this incredible woman.

An elderly lady stopped by our conversation to tell me how much she liked me because she had been eavesdropping and complimented me on me not saying too much and that people tell too much. It was actually a little awkward for my friend who was telling me such special things. I’m now wishing I had stopped to talk to that lady when I was on my way out when I saw her sitting in the food court to tell her that she should be liking Karin more because she was such the better person than me. I have admired Karin so much for her Facebook posts on her families struggles with their loss and their blessings. I have been touched by her amazing strength and willingness to share.

I, on the other hand, have not been what she has been through. I don’t have that incredible strength and wisdom. I struggle every day with just being me. I don’t have some tragic story or event and yet some days I can barely cope with every day life. A lot of the things I share with people are true but also a facade. I share on Facebook the good things that happen. Don’t get me wrong, I think every one should focus on the good things in their lives. I love it when people are real. Sharing their real feelings.

Out of all these years that my husband ran the marathon, I have never done the Mayor’s Walk. I did it with 5 of my 6 kids. It gave me the opportunity to have a good view of the finish line. I usually get there close to the time Shane is running in and don’t see the first runners coming in.

The first few winners came in like it was a breeze. I cheer and clap and think good job. You won! Not far behind them are more runners. Some of them come close to that finish line and I can see their legs cramping and buckling underneath them. I yell and scream for them. “You can do it!” My hands are sore from clapping so hard for them. I want them to make it. They are so close to that finish line. One guy completely fell down. I could see the military guy heading towards him to help him. I’m yelling, “No, don’t help him!” And cheering for the guy on the ground, “You can do it! Come on!” The reason I don’t want the guy to have help is because the moment that military guy touches him, he is out of the race. It would be so sad to be so close and not be able to say you finished. At this point, I’m getting rather emotional for this guy struggling to get up and finish the race. (Although, I tried to blame it on the sun in my eyes.) I’m crying when this guy, who I don’t even know, crosses that finish line. More runners keep coming. Some of them sprint to cross that line. But again, others that are struggling are getting all my yells and cheers for them. They are all accomplishing the same goal but why am I so affected and emotional for the ones who struggle?

I shared my testimony of the gospel in church the first Sunday of September. I had known for a few months that I needed to do it but I kept putting it off. I kept trying to get up that day but someone would beat me to it right when I would get the courage. I was the last one to get up that day. I don’t remember exactly what I said other than I know the church is true. I love my Savior and my family.

My friend, knowing of my struggles lately, she started to cry when I got up there. I didn’t understand why she would do that until the marathon.

Ever wish there was an undo button for things that you’ve done?

I took my daughter to her college freshmen orientation yesterday. It got me remembering my favorite math teacher from high school. My daughter was fortunate to have had him too. Some of the most valuable things he taught me was to ask questions and not be afraid to ask for help. Even though I know this, I don’t always apply that principle.

I cleaned out my laundry room last week and moved a hutch out of there thinking of putting it in my craft room. I took Dandy Dancer with me to buy some paint to finish a table that I bought at the DI a few months ago. I asked her if I should buy some paint to paint for the hutch too. She suggested a bright teal called Lagoon. I was daring and purchased four cans of paint.

I painted it and now I’m thinking, “What have I done?!”

Where’s the undo button?!

I then went onto Behr.com. I’m thinking I now need to paint the entire craft room to coordinate with this hutch. I think the Lagoon color is bold enough so I need something more mild. I found a color scheme that looked good on the computer. I head to the store and buy paint. It’s called Book Binder and Subdued Hue. After the lady mixes it up, I’m not sure that is going to look as good as it did on the computer.

I have now piled all my craft stuff into my laundry room and kitchen. Yes, I have a lot of stuff crammed into that small room. It’s a mess. We can’t eat in the kitchen. I can’t do laundry. And the sad part is this all started with cleaning the laundry room. Haha.

I painted two of the walls with the darker Book Binder and the other two walls with the Subdued Hue. The dark color is looking darker than I want. Again, where is that undo button?!

Several months ago, I asked someone for help. It didn’t work out. Instead someone else got all the help I asked for and more. I wish there was an undo button for that. Maybe someday I will tell you more about it. It was the beginning of my series of troubles that lead me to starting this blog.

My mom doesn’t like snakes…at all! I grew up not being a fan of them either because of the way my mom was about them. As I have become a mom, snakes haven’t creeped me out like my mom. I can look at a picture of them and not be grossed out. I even looked at dead one in the road on my nightly walk just last month. No big deal.

Last Saturday morning I woke up from a nightmare. I dreamt that I was working in my yard. I had a frog that was helping me. He was kind of a big frog, bigger than the usual in my neighborhood. At one point I was holding the frog but then he jumped down into some water by my driveway but it looked like a green gel surrounded him, maybe giving him some sort of protection. I’m not sure exactly. I then walked to the middle of the street and then walked back. I then noticed that my neighbors had some tall grass that looked like it had been trampled down forming a pathway. I walked over to look closer. I saw a huge snake that was trying to get my froggy friend. I started calling out the name of my frog and I realized he had the same name as my little 4-year-old son. The snake was bothered that I was trying to rescue this guy. It started coming after me but I kept calling out the frog’s name. This made the snake really angry. It became more aggressive. It lunged at me and I reacted by putting my hand out in front of me. Then, I woke up with my hand hurting.

The dream has meaning to me. As you might already know, snakes are the symbol of Satan. Satan knows that if he can get the mother out of the way, then he can get the children. I worry that I might be caught. I worry that I’m not doing enough to keep my children safe. Where can I get some of that greenish protective gel that helped my frog? I would love to lather my children up with that but what do I do about me? I do all the churchy answers, say my prayers, go to church, read my scriptures. What more can I do? Ok… I confess. I used to watch Glee because I really liked the music and Sue Sylvester made me laugh but really, there is a lot yucky things in there too. It’s like the cockroach in the ice cream thing. One yucky thing can ruin a good thing.

Today is Father’s Day. My children were actually willing to help me make a special dinner for my husband. My little 10-year-old, Fancy Princess, was happy to peel potatoes for mashed potatoes. Halfway through she found a rotten potato with a worm in it. She freaked out and was done helping. Ninja Boy and Buster Boo wanted to see it and got all grossed out. I came to the rescue and threw the potato in the garbage in the kitchen. Shortly after that, I had Buster Boo throw away an empty juice bottle. For some reason he freaked out and threw the juice bottle out of the garbage sure that the worm had gotten on the juice bottle.

Now Buster Boo is only 4 years old. This worm has really set him back today. He wants me to double check the pantry to make sure that there aren’t any more worms. Then he had me check under the couch cushions. He wouldn’t go into the bathroom unless I turned the light on for him. During dinner, he didn’t really eat his dinner especially when the rest of the kids kept talking about the worm. Buster Boo wanted Dandy Dancer to check the house and pantry again for worms. She was able to convince him the worms were gone.

My confession today is that church is sometimes hard for me. I love my church. I love the people there. I love my Savior and have a testimony that the church is true. Just lately, I feel misplaced. It’s a series of events that have led me to this feeling. It’s like a worm but I think I am the worm that everyone sees as ruining things and that I am yucky. I know it’s not true but yet when I’m at church, those feelings of insecurity rise to the surface. I go to church because I want to be obedient. The Lord has blessed me with so much that I need to do and be better than what I am. My worry is that I may never be good enough. I worry about talking to people because I may say something that shows how sad I am. I don’t want to be that sad person. I used to be one of those happy people at church. You know that lady. The one that says all the right answers whenever she adds a comment to the lesson or is funny. I didn’t always give the right answers but I tried. But now I worry about making any comment at all.

On a good note today, an older lady came up to me to tell me how much she appreciated a comment I made about a month ago about prayer. It has helped her. I always pray before I make my bed. If my bed isn’t made, then I know I haven’t made my bed. She said even at her age you would think that she would remember but this little trick has helped her. I guess that’s one less person that I have to worry about that thinks I’m a worm.